Diangosis: Love
by Buffy Sparrow
Summary: Working in a hospital is never easy, but things seem to get worse when your past comes back to haunt you and you find yourself falling in love with a coworker all at the same time. Rated M for language, just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Diagnosis- Love**  
**By:** xBuffyxSparrowx  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing:** Dr. Cox/OC  
**POV:** 1st person  
**Category:** General, Romance  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of Scrubs, although if I did life would be so much more fun. I'm also giving you fair warning as to the fact that this is one of my very early attempts at writing, and there for horrible in so many ways. The character is pretty Mary-Sue, there's a lot of angsty drama and a lot of plot holes. Still, I got bored and felt the need to put this out there.  
**Summery:** Working in a hospital is never easy, but things seem to get worse when your past comes back to haunt you and you find yourself falling in love with a coworker all at the same time.

* * *

Everyone looks forward to their first day at a new job and especially if you're doing something you love. The reason why you spent countless years in college not wrapped up in partying just to have this chance. It's a wonderful feeling that you get when you walk into the building knowing that you're about to make a difference in the world. That is, of course, until you realize that your boss is an obnoxious ass hole and even worse than even you're most terrifying of nightmares. 

Welcome to my life. My name is Lucy Graham, Dr. Lucy Graham to be exact, and I've been a resident at Sacred Heart Hospital for thirty-six minutes and seven seconds. I'm an average looking woman of thirty two, with my black hair cropped to just above my shoulders and blue eyes that tend to catch people's attention. My body type is slim, in shape and while I'm no Pam Anderson, I get by with what I have. Thanks to growing up in a home with five, count 'em FIVE, older brothers, I have a personality similar to many males in today's society and only revert back to my natural state of estrogen when in a panic.

Before Sacred Heart, I worked in County General up until about a month ago when I quit my job in order to escape from my past and the people haunting it. Now here I am, soaking in the understanding that my coworkers are idiots, the chief of medicine, Dr. Kelso, is down right evil and the man forced to show me around on my first day has an ego the size of the Milky Way.

Dr. Cox isn't what one would call unpleasant, but that's probably because 'unpleasant' isn't strong enough of a word. I've come to discover that he has an almost dictator like relationship with the staff here, ruling by fear and degradation that has quiet simply never worked on me. I will say one thing for the man, though. He isn't exactly hard on the eyes. His body, from what I can tell, is in perfect shape and his face is full of expression. With hair that is a medium brown, cut short with the slightest curl and penetrating eyes, he is very attractive. That is, of course, until he opens his mouth.

"Girly! Pay attention," he yells out at me, snapping his fingers.

"Why? Are you going to talk about something other than yourself?" I reply while faking a sudden interest.

For a single moment, the world seems to freeze as many of my coworkers stop to look in our direction. As quickly as it stopped, the activity starts up again to leave only him with a smile on his face that doesn't reach his eyes. He's about to respond when the beeper on his hip begins ringing loudly, echoing down the hall. A groan of disgust escapes his lips as he reaches for the source of his aggravation and he quickly reads the page before glancing back at me.

"You, follow," he commands before striding down the busy hall.

Since I seem to have no other option, I do as he says and am quick to walk beside him with my chin held high. We enter a room where an elderly woman lies in her hospital bed appearing to be asleep. I reach for her chart only to have it snatched away.

"This lovely gomer is Mrs. Thomas. Age 74, symptoms numerous and complicated. She just got back from surgery to repair a clogged artery and remove what's left of her appendix after it went 'pop'."

"Everyone loves a double whammy," I say absent mindedly as I examine her monitors. "Well her vitals are strong, heart rate expectedly high after the stress of surgery. Blood pressure's normal, breathing stable. Her blood thinner should be reduced to speed up healing, but other than that everything seems fine."

"Congrats, Captain Obvious. Now tell me, if she seems fine then why was I paged?"

"Probably because your crack team of surgeons didn't get to her before the burst appendix caused an infection inside her abdomen. Be sure to give them all new spandex for me, Sarcastic Boy."

I leave him alone then, too annoyed to deal with anymore of his cynical bull shit and push the nearest resident in to assist him. The spineless creation of choice was Dr. Dorhean, or J.D., and he seemed just all too happy to be of service, especially since this is probably his only chance to suck up to the arrogant bastard that rules him. I watch through the window and J.D. runs around like a puppy trying to please its master and for a moment I think I'm going to vomit. For the briefest of moments, Dr. Cox catches my gaze and I can't stop myself from noticing that he appears to be staring at me. Heat floods me in all the wrong places, forcing me to turn away to hide my embarrassment and when I finally dare to glance back he's no where in the room.

"Where the hell…?" I mutter.

My pager rings loudly, drawing my attention to my hip where the words 'lose something?' flash up at me. An explicit curse tumbles from my mouth as I respond with 'nothing I'd lament being rid of' before listening for Dr. Cox's own pager to go off. The beeps come from behind me where I turn to find him leaning against the wall looking very amused.

"I hate you more now than I did ten minutes ago, just so you know," I tell him, barely able to hide the smile forcing its way onto my lips.

"Thank God, because my day is just not complete until someone is miserable."

"You're a prick!" I laugh, just as Dr. Kelso happens to be walking by.

"We try to keep our cursing to a minimum around here, Dr. Graham," Kelso points out with a sneer.

"Oh bite me."

Before the old geezer that has the displeasure of being my boss can reply, I've already began making my way down the hall as the roaring laughter of Dr. Cox follows me. Soon his overbearing presence is back by my side as he escorts me onto our next patient. The day passes quickly, it's events going something like this: rounds, ignoring Dr. Cox, lunch break, fighting with Dr. Cox, surgery prep while ignoring Dr. Cox, watching Dr. Cox fight with Dr. Kelso, proceeding to fight (yet again) with Dr. Kelso, and finally yelling at J.D. for continuing to be a spineless creation. All in all a very productive shift. Finally, though, it's time for me to go home and pass out until next year.

The sun had set hours ago, leaving the parking lot dark and creepy. Have you ever had that feeling of impending doom? When you just know something bad is about to happen and there's nothing you can do about it? That's me times ten. As a doctor, you're always evaluating the risks of your actions and naturally that has a habit of carrying over into your every day life. The risk of walking to my car: absolutely none. The possibility of something bad happening to me while I'm walking to my car: about one in five.

Despite the fear and impending doom in my gut, I notch my chin up a little higher and make my way to my '67 Ford Mustang. I love that car, but I despise my parking spot of choice. My step falters and my heart begins to race when a flash of movement catches my attention. Remember that inevitable doom feeling? Oh yeah, I'm terrified by this point in time, but that doesn't stop me from telling myself that it is all just my mind playing tricks. I'm about to continue to my car when my 'figment of my imagination' pops out in front of me, his face clear even in the darkness.

"Jacob," I whisper, his name alone sending shivers of terror down my spine.

During my internship at County Medical three years back, Jacob had been one of my first patients and we seemed to hit it off nicely. He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome with beautiful baby blues and he was also very sweet and funny. The perfect guy right? I thought so too. It's funny how quickly things can change. The first time he hit me was right after the hospital's annual Christmas party where he decided that I was spending a little too much time talking with one of the male nurses. Afterwards he cried and begged until he finally convinced me to forgive him. He swore to heaven and hell that it would never happen again. Things got progressively worse until one final night when I finally couldn't take it anymore. I broke off the two and a half year relationship, changed my number, moved and quit my job in order to escape. Guess my freedom was short lived.

"You ran away from me, Lucy, but I found you. I'll always find you," he says, his blue eyes menacing.

"What are you doing here, Jacob? I told you it was over," I reply, backing away slowly. "Just leave me alone."

"Now you see, I can't do that."

He grabs me roughly by the arm, twisting it around my back to cause pain to shoot up the offended appendage. I whimper quietly as the tears sting my eyes and his warm breath can be felt against my throat. His closeness makes me want to gag, but I concentrate on keeping myself quiet. Screaming only makes it worse.

"We said forever. Remember, Lucy? But you left me, you stupid bitch. Now you're going to pay."

He shoves me to the ground and I hit the pavement hard, tiny rocks digging into my palms and knees. Before I can scramble to my feet he's there on top of me, flipping me onto my back. Fists fly, mostly making contact on my face and stomach and I can do little to block the blows. After a while he stands in order to send a very few precise kicks into my sides and my ribs break painfully. Blood is trickling out of my broken nose and split lip to coat my face and scrubs as he continues to do me harm.

I'm vaguely aware of my purse laying by my head and the glint of metal in the moonlight. Using what little strength I have left, I reach for the knife that I've always carried on me just in case. I strike swiftly, cutting into his Achilles tendon until he collapses to his knees while screaming in agony. With renewed energy, I scramble to my feet and make a mad dash into the hospital where I find Dr. Cox talking with a nurse I recognized to be Carla.

"The look on his face was priceless, but she… She was awful and bitchy, I mean really. Pray she doesn't come back," he says to Carla, his back to me.

"Maybe you should pray a little harder," I gasp, my cracked ribs making it painful to talk.

"Oh My God, Lucifer. Don't bleed on the floor, will ya?"

"Bite me, Cox," I reply before turning to Carla. "There's a guy outside that needs some help."

"What happened?" She asks, rushing out from behind the counter.

"I kind of stabbed him."

It takes her about three seconds to run outside while I sway dangerously on my feet in front of Dr. Cox. My breathing is labored; my body in agony and it strikes me funny that this doctor hasn't even made a move to help me. The laughter comes loudly, hysterically and the look of confusion on his face only keeps the giggles coming until I notice the droplets of blood beginning to stain the linoleum beneath me.

"Sorry about the floor," I whisper, all traces of my previous giddiness gone.

A sudden rush of warmth and darkness takes over me as I fall unconscious, unaware of the strong arms suddenly around me.


	2. Chapter 2

For three days I laid in Sacred Heart, a patient instead of a doctor, and kept asleep with a mixture of drugs. Its weird seeing things from the other side as you're waking up to an uncomfortable bed with itchy sheets and the constantly annoying beep of the monitors. I pull off the things that attach me to the monitor, laughing as it flat lines and J.D. runs in looking petrified.

"Are you my doctor?" I demand, tossing the cords aside.

"Y-yes," he stutters.

"Not anymore. Sign my discharge papers or die."

"We need to keep you for a few days and there are some police men outside that want to talk to you now that you're awake."

I stare at him for a moment, glaring a plotting his death before growling at him to get out. He scrambles out the door, almost running face first into the one person I definitely don't feel like seeing. Dr. Cox comes into the room looking like he hasn't slept in a week and yet his eyes light up slightly when he notices my state of consciousness. 

"Welcome back to the world of the living," he says to me, his usual sarcasm gone.

"I would say it's good to be back, but your little lap dog won't release me and now I have to deal with cops. Definitely not something I feel like handling right now."

"Well after your little spat with your boyfriend…"

"He's not my boyfriend. I broke up with him a while ago."

"That's nice of you. Break his heart and then nearly handicap him for life."

I look away to stare out my window, feeling no guilt for what I'd done and pure hatred toward Jacob.

"He deserved worse," I whisper.

A weight settles on the bed beside me and then warmth rests against my thigh. Turning back, I expect to find a comforting hand resting there and am very surprised when there actually is. My first reaction is happiness until it dawns on me that the sleeves aren't white like they should be. Screaming fills my room as I scramble from the bed, backing myself up into a corner and not noticing my IV has been pulled out to bring a steady stream of blood to pour from my vein. Dr. Cox can be heard cursing as he rushes back into the room while two police officers restrain a man that I quickly realized was Jacob. Apparently I'd stared out the window longer than I'd thought, giving Cox time to slip out and Jacob time to hobble in on his crutches.

"Get him out of here. I want him restrained to his bed by the next time I check on him," Cox yells at the cops.

My face is buried in my arms as I attempt to make myself smaller, hoping to remain ignored until I can pull myself back together. Dr. Cox apparently has other ideas, since the moment Jacob is escorted outside he chooses to kneel down before me. I glance up hesitantly, pretending that tears aren't staining my cheeks and I don't look nearly as bad as I feel.

"This isn't the first time he's hit you, is it?" He asks, quietly.

"That's none of your business," I choke out through the lump in my throat.

He sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner.

"As your new doctor, since you make Francine piss himself, I think it's my business. Quite frankly, everyone's business is my business so you might as well just spill."

I can't stop myself from smiling at the latest female name he's bestowed upon J.D. and that alone makes me feel a little better. Still I choose not to answer his question and instead focus on trying to get back into bed. My legs are wobbly and I manage to stand well enough on my own. He wraps an arm around my waist to support me as I walk the few feet to the bed before he helps me climb into it, quickly bringing the blankets back around my waist and then attending to my IV. The police come back a little while later, interrupting our calm silence and I notice Cox trying to sneak out.

"Where do you think you're going?" I ask him, ignoring the officer's presence.

"Well, gee, you're not the only patient I have, Lucifer."

"I guess you're never going to get an answer to your question then…."

With the smile of a man manipulated, he takes a seat in the chair by my bed and I chastise myself for sounding like a demanding female, if only half-heartedly. It's only once both of us are comfortable that the police begin their questioning.

"How do you know Jacob Marley?" Cop one asks, the only of the two with a mustache.

"We dated for two and a half years up until a couple months ago when I broke it off."

"Is this the first time he hit you?" Mustache inquires after writing in a small notebook.

I glance over at Dr. Cox, aware of his apprehension as he awaits my answer.

"No, it's not the fist time he's hit me. Not even close."

I recall the details of our entire relationship while trying my best to ignore the angered eyes of my colleague as they bare into me. I work my way up to the last episode, the final straw that broke my back and when it's time comes to be told I pause to take a deep breath.

"The last time, the time before this, was the worst and it was what convinced me to finally leave him. At first it was just the usual slapping around until I decided to try and fight back. I was tired of it by then, so sick of constantly fearing every little thing that I did would send him into another rage. Except this time he was the one with the knife. I tried to get away once I realized he'd grabbed it, but it was too late by then. He… he pinned me down to the floor, sitting on my hips and facing away from me. Then he… well…" I allow my sentence to trail off as I lift up my robe to show off the twin scars that run along the inside of my legs from thigh to knee. Cox seems to pale at the sight and I quickly hide them again, ashamed. "After he finished slicing me up, he decided that wasn't punishment enough and he raped me. Blood was everywhere and I knew that I should've gone to the hospital… I just stitched them up myself. For two weeks I couldn't walk because the pain was too unbearable. The only time I left my bed was when I had no other choice."

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell us?" Asks cop two, who I'd dubbed Daffy Duck during my little rant due to his slight lisp.

When I shake my head 'no' they thank me for my time before excusing themselves, leaving me once again alone with Dr. Cox. He stares at a spot on the floor for a moment as if allowing everything to sink in before he finally meets my gaze.

"I hope that helps you with your need to know everything. Including why I'm 'awful and bitchy'; why I refuse to let people step all over me."

"You're an idiot," He replies angrily.

"Excuse me?" I ask, offended and confused.

"Do I need to say it slower? You- Are- An- Id- E- Ot."

"Get out, you insensitive bastard."

Suddenly it's his turn to be offended and confused. His arms cross defensively as he scoots himself even further down in the chair as if what I'd said hadn't registered at all in that tiny little brain of his. While I'll admit to being a fairly patient person, his nonchalant stature began seriously trying my nerves. A knock on the doorway brings us out of our small staring contest and an unfamiliar woman stands just outside my room, looking at Cox like he'd done something wrong.

"I thought I smelled brimstone. Jordan, to what do I owe this displeasure?" He asks, addressing the stranger.

"You haven't been home in four days, Perry. You owe me an explanation and 'I hate you' sex."

"Hunny, now's really not the time."

I stare at the two as they continue to argue, wondering what exactly was going on before me. The mention of sex forces my eyes to search out wedding bands and I'm for some reason relieved. However, the feeling doesn't last as their fight begins to grate on my already frazzled nerves until I finally decide that I won't take anymore of their bickering. 

"Hey, love birds! Take the fight some place else," I yell, breaking into their conversation.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Jordan yells back, obviously not happy that I'd interrupted their little spat.

"I'm the patient that lives in this fucking room! And as much as I love the pounding headache I'm getting from listening to you two bitch at each other, I'm going to say this once more and once more only. Get out."

"And if we refuse?" He asks arrogantly.

I don't answer his question, but instead begin once again ripping off all of the monitor attachments, making sure to leave my IV for last. He waits patiently, as if trying to figure out the point I'm trying to make, and his indifference only encourages me to take the next step. Throwing off my blankets, I force my pained body off the bed and into a standing position before testing out my legs. They're wobbly, but stable enough for me to begin my progress out of the hospital room. My first shaky steps were enough to bring him to his own feet and yet he's not quick enough to stop me. I make it into the female locker room a mere seconds before he would've been able to grab me, his curses loud even through the thick swinging door.

"Lucifer, get out here."

"Go to hell!" I scream back.

"Don't make me come in there."

His threats seem empty enough as I quietly change out of my hospital gown and into a pair of scrubs that I'd tossed into my locker. Once redressed, I move up to the door and press my ear against it to see if he's still out there. When I'm assured of his absence, I sneak my way over to the nurse's station where J.D. is sure to be standing. Heaven forbid the boy not be predictable, because that's exactly where I found him and I quickly exploited his fear of me.

"Alright, Kendra, listen up," I say as I move up behind him, startling him some. "Cox was gracious enough to sign my release forms, so I need you to go get the stuff I came in with last night, most specifically my car keys. You think you can do that for me?"

"No problem, Dr. Graham. Anything else?" He asks eagerly.

"Hurrying would be nice. Hustle, Dorhean. Chop-chop."

Less than a minute later, keys in hand and freedom grasped firmly, I find myself on my way home to my comfy one bedroom flat. My fluffy white kitten, Corky, greets me at the door with a mew of happiness and I pick her up to hold her against my chest as I walk through my make-shift living room. A hot shower is first on my list of things to do after making sure Corky has food in her bowl and the water beating down on my soar muscles feels like heaven. From under the warm spray I allow feelings of triumph to fill me and the emotions continue even once the sun has set. The heat of the night convinces me to wear only a silky nightdress to bed and I sink into my feather mattress ready for a nights sleep away from Sacred Heart. 


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks. Two weeks without any calls from the hospital demanding that I return, no visits from the police and best of all, no Perry Cox. Every wound that had pained me has finally dulled down to pretty blackish green bruises that leave me feeling better about what had happened with Jacob. Today is going to be a stepping stone for me, my first day outside of the flat since my escape and for no better reason than because I'd finally run out of groceries. A grocery list sits in the back pocket of my low ride jeans and my favorite full length leather duster sits over a black t-shirt that lovingly says 'By the time you finish reading this, I'll have already thought up 666 ways to kill you with a spork' in bold white letters.

"Wish me luck, Corky," I call over my shoulder as I leave.

"Good luck," responds a voice that forces me to freeze in my tracks, the handle of my door still in my grasp.

I know that voice and it causes me to fear turning around, not wanting to see its owner. His hand settles softly on my shoulder, its warmth sinking through the layers of clothing and making me feel suddenly feverish. With a burst of courage, I face this invader into my life while trying to ignore the concern in his eyes and the small smile playing his lips.

"I was wondering when you'd show up. What took you so long?" I ask, tilting my head to one side.

"Paperwork. Loads and loads of paperwork. You get stuck with that kind of thing when your patient suddenly disappears into thin air," Cox tells me, seemingly unbothered by the entire incident.

"Into thin air, huh? Cause as far as I remember, I just kind of walked right out the front door."

"How'd you get your stuff back, Houdini? Devil magic?"

I laugh quietly at his question, taking the time to lock my door before moving around him to leave. He follows me without thought, standing at the curb for a minute just watching me with a strange intensity.

"Do you really want to know how?" I ask in order to fill the silence.

"Surprisingly enough, yeah I do," He answers with a smile.

A wicked grin spreads across my lips as I move forward until I stand only a few inches away from him, our mouths so close to touching it's almost too tempting. None the less I resist, using up nearly all of my self control to do so, and it's beyond even my wildest dreams when I see the look in his eyes as he watches my lips.

"A magician never tells her secrets," I whisper softly, "But my assistant would probably crack. All you have to do is whistle."

I demonstrate, letting out a quiet wolf whistle as I look him up and down before stepping back and moving to the driver's side of my Mustang. His eyes follow my movements and for once he seems stunned into silence.

"Later, Zim."

* * *

A lot of shocked faces greet me when I walk into Sacred Heart for the first time since 'the incident', dressed for work and wearing a smile that is no less real than the bruises on my face. I go in search of Cox, finding him quickly since his voice can be heard quite distinctly by anyone within the building as he mocks Dr. Kelso. Standing next to him with my hands in the pockets of my white coat, I wait for the money grubbing chief of medicine to storm away before repeating my previous, quiet whistle. His eyes light up some when they finally meet my gaze.

"Welcome back, Lucifer," he says with a smirk.

"Aw, someone missed me," I reply, mocking his apparent happiness as I slap him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Zim, I won't tell anybody."

"And now that you've officially ruined my mood, let's get down to business. I'm overloaded on patients and you're my new unwilling volunteer to help me get rid of them as quickly as possible."

I allow my bottom lip to jut out slightly in a pout before grabbing one of the charts out of his hand and skimming over it. The patient: none other than Jacob Marley. My evil grin spreads across my face as I take in the amount of damage I actually caused before the chart is snatched out of my hands. I reach for the object again, but he quickly turns on his heel and begins striding down the hall. I follow him eagerly, excited to see my ex again for a reason that has everything to do with revenge, and I have every reason to believe that Cox knew that. As I walk through the doorway, I bask at the sight before me with a sense of great accomplishment. Jacob lays in his bed, still restrained and looking both angry and scared about my sudden appearance. His cut up leg sits in a girly pink cast, resting upon a pillow, and he holds one magnificent looking shiner that I know I didn't put there. Resisting the urge to cause him more bodily harm, I stand to the side as Cox begins checking up on his patient.

"So, Jacob, how's the leg?" He asks cheekily, giving the cast a slight slap that puts a look of pain upon the bastard's face.

"Still painful, just like the last time you came in here," Jacob manages to choke out.

"Good, good. Dr. Graham, will you do me a favor and check his morphine drip for me?"

I stare at the broad expanse of his back, feeling shocked but pleased by his request, and I'm quick to move to the side of the bed. For a moment, I'm confused by the tiny amount of pain killer that Jacob is being given and I debate saying something. Cox notices my gaze and winks, telling me everything I need to know.

"Everything's perfect, Dr. Cox," I tell him.

"Alrighty then, Jacob. We'll check up on you again in a couple of hours."

The moment we've exited the room, I tug forcefully one Cox's arm and meet his amused stare.

"He isn't getting enough morphine to dull a headache, and I'm pretty damned sure you know that," I exclaim in a quieted voice.

"What's your point?"

My shoulders sag as I just look at the man before me, amazed, before lowering my gaze to the floor.

"Why are you doing that?"

He doesn't answer my question, but simply turns on his heel to once again walk away from me. This time, I make no move to follow him and instead head in the direction of the nurses station. Carla smiles up at me as I approach the desk, putting one hand on her hip and wagging her finger at me with the other.

"You shouldn't have left, Lucy," she scolds.

"What, and miss the chance to piss off Cox? Not on your life. Although… it would've been funny to watch him run around looking for me."

"You have no idea," she laughs, "He sent at least four nurses into that locker room and then ran around the place for an hour before the janitor told him your car was gone."

"He certainly left that part out when he snuck into my apartment complex this morning." I pause for a moment, allowing thoughts of a livid Cox run through my mind before continuing. "Anyways, I came here to ask you something. Why is the patient in room 103 not getting a sufficient amount of morphine?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

She flashes me a knowing smile and then reaches into a near by desk drawer. In her hand is a small, black tape recorder which she quickly rewinds for a few seconds before giving it to me and I can only stare at the small device in my possession. The 'play' button is cool under my finger as I slowly push it down, hearing quiet background noise before Carla's own voice comes through the tiny speaker.

"What do you want me to do about 103? He's going to be in a hell of a lot of pain when he wakes up again."

"Let the man suffer," replies a voice I recognize to be Dr. Cox. "No one hurts Lucy and gets away with it… Well except maybe me."

Flabbergasted, I push down the stop button and then can only stare at the contraption. After a few long, silent moments I manage to swallow past the unusual lump in my throat before looking up at the Dominican nurse.

"Well that's interesting…"


	4. Chapter 4

'No one hurts Lucy and gets away with it…'

Over and over again the words replayed in my mind as I continued through the rest of my day, trying my best to avoid their speaker. I walked through my rounds in a sort of daze that I couldn't shake as the millions of questions zoomed through me in an attempt to explain what I'd heard. Not a one could be answered, although I wasn't even sure if I wanted them to be. With my night shift almost at an end, I force my body into the cafeteria for a small bite to eat and a cup of coffee with a groan of exhaustion. I know I probably look a mess, my hair mostly out of its restraining tie, blood on my shoes and blue ink splattered on my coat, but it just simply didn't matter to me. 

I'm startled out of my thoughts when a loud whistle sounds behind me and I'm quick to face my next stabbing victim. My frazzled nerves calm slightly when my eyes rest upon Dr. Cox with a grin on his face and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Seconds pass, slowly and silently, until a frantic J.D. runs through the swinging double doors and skids to a stop beside us.

"You called, Dr. Cox?"

"Kim, do me a favor will ya? Explain to me exactly how it is that the sneaky Dr. Graham managed to get her belongings back."

The obviously nervous resident glances at me, begging silently for my help, and I merely shrugged while inwardly enjoying his torment.

"Five seconds, newbie."

"I- She…"

"Four… three."

"Well…"

"Two…"

"I helped her!" He finally screams, his voice high pitched and cracking.

A smile spreads across my face as I stare at Dr. Cox's annoyed expression and to further voice my amusement, I impersonate the whistling sound of someone falling off a cliff.

"Splat," I whisper, leaning in closer to Cox. "I told you he'd crack."

With renewed energy and a sense of accomplishment, I grab coffee and a muffin before sitting down at the nearest table. The room becomes deafeningly quiet as I wait patiently for something, anything, to happen between the two doctors before me. I half expect Cox to start screaming at the pathetic creature beside him, and yet the heated words never come.

"Way to keep a secret, Girr," I exclaim in order to fill the silence.

"You told me he signed your release papers!" The boy shouts back, obviously annoyed by the situation I put him in.

"I did, didn't I?" I reply with a thoughtful expression. "Oh well, that's what you get for believing anything that comes out of a woman's mouth. Here's a life lesson for ya, Lizzy… never trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn't die."

A horrified and disgusted look crosses the young doctor's face before he storms out of the cafeteria, leaving only Dr. Cox and his sudden ability to stop staring at me. I enjoy the feeling of superiority as I take a bite of my muffin before pushing out the chair across from me with my feet, willing the stunned man to take a seat. He does so, never breaking his gaze, and I return the look in kind. The contest lasts for the longest of times, allowing me some peace to really think about this person who has become such a part of my life these last few weeks. It's refreshing to find a guy that can take my shit without back handing me and instead dishing it right back. With him, I've become more of the person I used to be… the self assured sister to five that would rather watch hockey than go shoe shopping. Speaking of hockey…

"Hey, Cox… do you have a favorite sports team?" I ask suddenly.

He breaks out of his daze with a slight shake of his head and I repeat my question, in case he hadn't heard me. For a moment, he looks confused by what I'd asked and I wonder if maybe it bothered him somehow that I was going beyond a professional relationship, delving into something similar to friends.

"Red Wings," he replies, seemingly cautious.

"You're kidding me right?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He asks loudly, as if suddenly aware of the conversation.

"Whoa, reign in the horses. Don't sound so offended, Zim. I love Detroit, but I must admit to being very unhappy with them. They blew it big time last season and I still haven't recovered."

A look crosses his face that I can't quite identify… awe, maybe? Doubt? I'm not really sure, so I simply wait to see if he's going to reply.

"Now, my brothers on the other hand," I continue when he doesn't speak, "they'd kill me if they heard about me liking Detroit. Big Black Bear fans. When they played last season it was a mad house, I mean full out chaos. For a while I thought my boys were going to let me down, but they pulled through at the last minute… I won a hundred bucks that night."

"You… like the Red Wings?"

"Were you not paying attention to anything I just said?"

"Prove it."

This caught me off guard, and I jerked back as if he'd struck me. My brows come together in confusion as I try to think of a way to show him I'm not lying when I'm suddenly hit with an idea. I stand up quickly, taking off my white coat before moving my hands toward my scrub bottoms. Suddenly, Cox is up too and backing away quickly.

"What the hell are you doing?" He exclaims, putting his hands out in front of him as though they'll stop my movement.

My bottoms are tugged down just the slightest amount to reveal a perfect Red Wings tattoo that I happen to be particularly proud of.

"Tattoo, Zim… did you think I was gonna jump ya? Right here in the cafeteria of all places?"

"The thought crossed my mind and I'm not really fond of rape."

"You can't rape the willing," I laugh.

He ignores my comment, moving in closer to examine the small red and white symbol on my hip bone with fascination. Once he seems assured of what he's actually seeing, he backs away again with a nod.

"Enough proof for you? Or should I show you the other one on my ass?" I joke.

He laughs uncomfortably before quickly, and literally, running away from me. I can only stare after his retreating form, feeling confused and oddly rejected, before I'm forced to turn my attention elsewhere when my pager echoes loudly through the cold and empty room. Curses fly from my lips, loudly, explicitly and in three different languages while I gather my things before rushing to the nurse's station.

"What happened? Someone paged me," I say as I skid to a stop in front of the desk.

"We thought you might wanna see this," Laverne tells me, pointing towards Jacob's room.

Not even five seconds after the words had left her mouth, my eyes behold a wondrous site. Jacob Marley, known woman beater and all around jerk, is being escorted out of his room by three police officers (two of which are female) and one very odd looking psychiatrist as he sits in his wheel chair in a straight jacket, his pink cast sticking out obnoxiously. A smile spreads across my face and a sense of relief sweeps through me as I watch the man who had held me captive for two and a half years is being taken to jail.

"Wow," I whisper once he's disappeared from my sight, "I never thought I'd see the day…"

"So why aren't you happier about it?" Carla asks from behind me.

"I am happy. Maybe not a 'does a little dance on the counter' kind of happy, but the feelings are there."

"So what's keeping you from dancing?"

For the longest time, I don't respond to her question and just continue to stare that the empty space where Jacob had been. Finally, with a deep breath, I decide to allow myself to open up to this woman as I turn to face her and lean my elbows against the counter.

"How well do you know Dr. Cox?" I ask hesitantly.

"Better than anyone you'll find in this hospital."

"What does he have against women with tattoos?"

"There's a story behind that question. Spill it."

With a resonated sigh, I recall what had happened in the cafeteria while choosing to leave out a few small details such as how much it'd hurt when he ran away from me. During the process of explaining the situation, J.D., another intern named Elliot and Carla's husband, Turk, had joined us and they seem very enthralled by my story.

"Maybe you just freaked him out," Turk says.

"You are kind of daunting," J.D. confirms.

"No, you're… okay yeah you are a little scary but I just don't think that's it," Elliot throws in as she sips her coffee.

"They're right, but it's more complicated than that," Carla tells me. "Lucy, hunny, believe me when I say this because I've seen it all before. Dr. Cox has a crush on you."

I stare at her in cold stone silence as her words sink in and then I can't help but burst out in a fit of hysterical giggles. How this conclusion was reached in that pretty little head of hers, I have no idea, but the absurdity of it has certainly made my day. The presence of someone standing behind me registers in the back of my mind and I calm my laughter long enough to glance over my shoulder before cracking up again.

"What's so funny?" Asks Dr. Cox as he stares at me.

"Carla… She… Oh God, I can't even say it," I giggle.

"I have good reason to believe that I'm right. You just refuse to see it!" She justifies, ignoring his presence.

"Oh really?" I retort, "And what, pray tell, are those reasons?"

"You're a bitch, you don't take shit, and you like hockey. You're his perfect girl! He knows it, too, which is why he's scared of you. It's simple!"

My laughter dies immediately as some things begin to click and the humor of the situation dissipates. There is no snappy come back on my lips, no sarcastic smile. All of my natural defenses have fled, leaving me with only two things: denial and the urge to get drunk.

"I'm not perfect," I mutter, "I know that better than anyone else. I also know that my shift has been over for ten minutes, so I'm going to go drink enough to forget about this entire conversation. If you'll excuse me."

Damn estrogenical panics.

Most women find their comfort in chocolate and bad Julia Roberts's movies while they curl up on the couch with a box of tissues. Me? All it takes for me to be happy is a seedy bar with decent stools and enough of my favorite men (Jack, Jim and Jose) to keep me content for a few hours. Tonight's place of choice isn't nearly as seedy as I would've liked but it serves my purpose well enough. The room is dark and smoky, making me itch for a cigarette despite the fact I've never smoked a day in my life. The whiskey in my glass burns deliciously down my throat to warm my body and my mind becomes muddled after only a little while. It's refreshing to feel drunk again after my months of sobriety while I was trying to fix my life. A thought pops into my mind that strikes me as funny and I can't help but to say it quietly to myself.

"I haven't been laid in months."

"And I'm pretty sure no one's surprised."

The sound of Dr. Cox's voice immediately kills my buzz and the rest of my glass, about three shots worth, is the first thing to pass my lips. The next: a belch beautiful enough to put any man to shame.

"Jesus, Lucifer. No wonder you can't find a man."

"Leave me alone, Dr. Cox. I'm in no mood to deal with your cynical bull shit."

Heaven forbid the guy do what I ask of him. Despite my aggravated tone and hateful words, he decides the stool beside me is the perfect place to sit. He orders a scotch on the rocks, refilling my own glass while he's at it, and then turns his body to face my own. I take another sip of my Jack, trying my damndest to ignore his less than subtle stare until I finally can't take his gaze anymore.

"Do I have something on my face, or is there another reason why you won't look anywhere but at me?"

"You never told me what was so funny."

"Don't worry about it. Just something Carla said… it threw me off."

"Right."

We simultaneously take another drink and my buzz has returned slightly, much to my delight. Maybe this will help me deal with the ass hole beside me who I can't seem to stop thinking of. I shake my head at myself, wanting nothing more than to have him disappear from my life so that maybe I won't have to worry about the conflicting feelings inside me. One minute, he's a great guy who (for a reason only God understands) I am attracted to and then next he's just like every other guy I know and I want to shoot myself for ever wanting him.

"So who's the guy that Carla seems to think you're perfect for?" He asks after another moment of silence.

"Just another jerk that I met. I don't really want to talk about it."

"Come on, Luce. Tell me about the guy. What harm could it do?"

"No one's called me that in a long time," I laugh quietly, "Not since I was little, anyways."

"Well at least I didn't call you Zim, whoever the hell that is."

My quiet giggle turns into a slightly louder laugh as I listen to his comment over the little nickname I gave him.

"Do you not get the reference?"

He shakes his head 'no' and I take another long drink as I try to hide my smile.

"It's from the cartoon Invader Zim. Zim's an alien that comes to earth and tries to take over. He spends most of his time dressed up as a human boy, trying to infiltrate the humans by sitting in a classroom all day and studying the kids around him. He has this obnoxious robot of an assistant named Girr that always screws up his plans somehow and wears this really bad dog costume. It was a great show, but it got cancelled a few years back."

"Well that's just… sad. I'm being compared to a cartoon alien."

"And J.D.'s your robot dog."

"That one I can understand."

We laugh a little more before silence takes us again and we're left with only our drinks to give us something to do. After another two glasses, which makes a total of six for me and three for him, he again turns to face me.

"So tell me about the guy Carla seems to think you're so perfect for," he demands.

"You really don't want to know," I reply, slurring my words as the effect of the alcohol becomes more obvious.

"You're right I don't, but tell me anyways. Humor me, Lucifer."

"Alright, but it's your funeral. He's just… this guy that I met at work. A total jerk, which seems to be the only kind of guy I attract, and he has a really bad case of a superiority complex. On the rare occasion, and I mean the cow's still mooing rare, he can be nice. Funny, too, but I just don't think he's really into me. Carla thinks he's just scared, but I know it's something else."

"What could possibly make him not want a girl like you?"

"Oh I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm 'awful and bitchy'," I tease. "But that's enough of that. I told everyone that I was going to drink enough to forget that little talk we had, and that's exactly what I did, if my bad talking is telling me anything."

"You do appear to be smashed," he adds.

"Good, then my mission is complete and I'm going home."

I stand from my stool, finishing what's left of the Jack before stumbling my way to the door. I feel proud of myself for not falling on my face by the time I reach the barrier between me and the outside world and I'm about to push it open when his voice stops me.

"It's me, isn't it?" He calls to me from across the room.

"A magician never tells her secrets," I reply before leaving him with only a swinging wooden door to stare after. 


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning I wake up to the sunshine streaming through my window, and I immediately regret opening my eyes. A pounding headache accompanies my pained eyes and my stomach feels like it just got off a rollercoaster. I grumble to myself as I roll out of bed, making my way to my bathroom to shower away the night before. Twenty minutes later, I'm walking through the doors of Sacred Heart once again and I'm immediately greeted by a smiling Dr. Cox.

"Well don't you look like you rolled out of a dumpster this morning," he comments, taking in my bedraggled appearance.

"Alcohol bad," I grumble in return, holding my head with my hand.

"I see, well then I guess I'll leave you to suffer in peace."

I silently thank god that he's choosing to leave me alone for the day, since I'm unwilling to admit that I remember making a fool out of myself last night and it's better if he's not around in case he decides to bring it up. After grabbing a quick cup of coffee, liquid happiness in my opinion, I begin my rounds for the day. Once I've visited most of my patients, I make my way down the hall to one of the supply closets to grab something and I'm horrified by what I find inside. It's obvious what had transpired before I'd walked in and J.D. and Elliot had jumped away from each other, their kiss swollen lips telling all. I scoff in disgust before slamming the door on them and going in search of another supply room. My next stop brings an even more scarring image to my mind when I walk in on Turk and Carla, barely clothed and looking a little worse for wear.

"God what is with all you couples? Can't you find some place better to fondle each other?" I scream before once again slamming the door.

My headache has begun to get the better of me, the pounding inside my skull getting worse with every additional step and I tell the nurse's station to page me should something go array before heading off to the break room. The darkness inside makes the pain dull down slightly as I lay down on the nearest bunk for a little bit of rest. It's only when my ears pick up on noises that I know shouldn't be there that I realize something isn't quite right and I'm quick to jump up to find a light switch, the bed creaking loudly as I remove myself from it. Suddenly the noises stop and I, in turn, stop my movements.

"Who's in here?" Asks a female voice that seems oddly familiar.

"Dr. Graham… who are you?"

"Jordan… and um…"

The woman I remember from that day in my room doesn't get to finish her sentence when another voice interrupts.

"Lucifer, do you think you could get out for a minute?"

The sound of Dr. Cox speaking through the darkness sparks an immediate reaction that flips on the light switch, although I instantly regret my decision. I scream loudly and shut off the lights once more before dashing out of the room, barricading the door with my body once I'm safely in the hall way. Nothing I think of can force the image of Dr. Cox and that woman out of my mind, the way their bodies were entwined intimately and my stomach turns over before everything that's left in there ends up on the floor. Thankfully, no one is around to see my shameful display and I crawl over to the other side of the hall to sit against the wall for a moment in order to calm myself.

Not but a few moments later, that devil of a woman steps out of the room and I quickly attempt to warn her of the hazard in front of her. I'm too late, however, and her six inch heel slips in the mess before she falls on her ass directly on my stomach's contents. I stare at her, horrified, as she tries to figure out what she's sitting in and by the time she's figured it out I've lost my sense of control. Laughter pours out of me like I'd just seen the funniest thing in the world and it's not long after that Dr. Cox joins us in the hall, trying to figure out what all the ruckus is about.

"Jesus, Jordan, is that what I think it is?" He asks, amazed and disgusted.

"Don't say a word, Perry, or I will kick your ass. Covered in vomit or not," she retorts before cautiously standing.

Once she's on her feet again, she storms off in the direction of the locker room and leaves me alone with him. I'm still giggling quietly to myself despite the fact that I've been trying very hard to stop and he seems to notice my presence for the first time.

"Did you do that?"

He points down to the mess on the floor and I follow his finger with my eyes before more giggles take me. All I can do is nod in response to his question before finally calming myself down enough to speak.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but that was just too funny. You should've seen her face when she realized what she landed it. It was priceless," I tell him.

He breaks out in a smile of his own for a moment before it leaves again and he redirects his gaze away from me to look at a spot on the wall.

"I'm sorry about in there," he says.

"You should be. You're the third couple I've walked in on in the last half hour. I guess I should apologize for the floor and your wife slipping on it."

"Ex-wife, actually."

"What, she just stopped in for a little 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am'? That's odd for a divorced couple."

"At least she hasn't stabbed me."

"Oh, and he comes out swinging. That was a little below the belt, don't you think?"

I stand, suddenly angry again for a reason that has nothing to do with his comment, and then walk off in search of the janitor. Once I've found him, apologizing profusely for the task I'd given him, I let the nurses know that I'm going home early but that they can still page me if it's an emergency. I then make my way to the locker room to shower and change, not surprised to see Jordan standing there in a pair of borrowed scrubs.

"Sorry about what happened earlier," I say to her as I move toward my locker.

"I could care less about the puke, Dr. Graham, but I am slightly concerned about your relationship with my ex-husband."

"What relationship? We work together, Jordan, and nothing more."

"But you'd like there to be more, wouldn't you? Don't think I haven't heard about your little crush on him from the nursing staff, or how you two went out together last night."

"I'm sorry, but you must've heard wrong. I don't have a thing for Dr. Cox and for your information; he barged in on my private drinking party last night. Get your facts straight."

Her face hardens as she moves swiftly towards me, getting right up in my face in a way that usually earns someone a deck in the face. I restrain myself, however, but return her furious gaze none the less. My hands shove themselves into my coat pockets to lessen my chance of striking out at her and my fingers come in contact with the cool plastic surface of a device I'd completely forgotten about. I quietly press down the 'record' button and wait patiently for whatever happens next.

"Look, I've seen the look he gets whenever your name comes up in a conversation. I know he wants you, so I'm only going to say this once. Stay away from him or I'm going to finish what your ex started. Am I clear?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

She storms away from me then, leaving the room in a rush and allowing the door to slam shut behind her. I can only smirk quietly to myself as I press the stop button on the tape recorder before doing what I came in here to do. My mind sorts through all the information while I allow the warm water to relax the knots in my muscles and attempt to figure out what to do about everything. I don't doubt for a second that Jordan would actually try to fight me, but the fact that she admitted to Dr. Cox wanting me makes my heart soar with possibilities. To act on the ideas would only manage to piss off that mad woman even more, but to deny myself the opportunity would be just… mean.

I finish showering and dressing quickly before skipping out of the locker room with a better outlook on my life. Things are definitely looking up for me, and who am I to not make them even better? My first stop is the nurse's station to grab Carla and have her listen to the tape before getting her input.

"I told you so." Is her only response as she smiles at me broadly and demands we have dinner.

Elliot is also enthused for me, wanting me to go tell Dr. Cox immediately that I have feelings for him but I'm quick to decline. It's not like something like this can't wait another couple of days, right? Okay maybe not. With the encouragement of the two women, I find myself scouring the halls in search of Cox until I finally find him hiding out in the lounge watching T.V.

"Hey, Zim, what'cha watching?" I ask cheerfully as I plop down on the couch beside him.

"I'm not really sure, actually. Ghandi was watching it before he ran off to kill somebody and I just don't have the energy to change the channel," he replies, using his less than flattering nick name for Turk.

"Ah, I see. You're little quickie wear you out?"

"Something like that," he laughs, noticing my teasing tone.

"Well I have something that might just make you a little more enthused."

He gives me a look of excited curiosity that makes me think back on what I'd just said before stumbling to correct myself.

"I didn't mean enthused as in… you know… ready to go find your ex wife again. Although it does concern her… Mostly, though, it just made me all jumpy for joy so I thought I'd do some sharing."

It's obvious by the look in his eyes that I've peaked his curiosity even more and there's also a hint of amusement at my blushing description of what I'd walked in on earlier.

"Never was good at surprises, Lucifer," he says after a moment when I hadn't continued with my secret.

"Oh, right… sorry. Well Jordan came up to me in the locker room and said some pretty interesting things. A large portion of them threats to finish what Jacob had started, but that's besides the point."

"Hold the phone, she threatened you?"

"It's no big deal. I'm not surprised, really, since she's feeling kind of territorial and all."

"Territorial?"

"She thinks you have a thing for me and apparently it's reciprocated, but that's not what I was going to say." I pause a moment, rethinking my words once again. "Wait, okay yes it was. Sorry. But how stupid is that, thinking you have a crush on me or something? I mean, you can barely stand me, right?"

His silence is deafening as I wait for him to answer, slowly coming to the realization that I'd just gone through another estrogenical panic and had probably sounded like a complete fool. When seconds turn into minutes, I begin berating myself silently for my stupidity and shake my head at myself.

"I'm sorry, I just freaked out on you. You don't have to answer those questions. Let's just… forget it ever happened okay?" I say, moving to stand up.

"No."

My movements cease suddenly when that single word flies from his mouth and I turn back around to face him, full on confusion written on my face.

"No what?"

"I don't want to forget it. Now that it's out there I think we should talk about it."

I cock my head to the side, wondering what the hell is going on and about to reply when both of our beepers begin ringing loudly. We dash side by side towards the parking lot, where we'd been directed, and I gasp loudly when I find the one man I thought out of my life forever standing next to my car with a baseball bat. Jacob is swinging madly at my prized possession, breaking all the windows and putting dents into the car's body.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I scream at him, moving towards my car.

Before I can take another step, the baseball bat has clattered to the ground and there is suddenly the dark barrel of a handgun pointed at my face. I freeze only feet away from the weapon, my hands automatically reaching into the air as a sign of surrender. The gun moves away from me for a moment when Dr. Cox tries to come closer to where I've stopped, but his movements also cease.

"Neither of you come any fucking closer!" Jacob yells, taking turns pointing the gun between us.

"Jacob, what are you doing?" I ask him again calmly.

"Its pay back, bitch. I'm not leaving here until you're dead."

"The cops are going to be here any minute, Jacob. You'll never get away with it. They'll send you to prison."

"As long as I've put you six feet under I don't care what they do. You left me, Lucy, and then you fucking stabbed me! We said forever, damn it."

"You beat me, ass wipe. What the hell did you think was going to happen?" I scream at him, anger taking over my common sense.

I knew the words would cost me the moment they'd left my mouth, and it takes only a second before he's on me, one hand buried deep in my hair. The pain is intense but at the same time unimportant as I try to regain my freedom from this mad man. Using my elbow, I slam it back into his stomach until his grip loosens on me and I'm able to make a run for it. Gunfire sounds in the air, screams surround me. Another round goes off and I can tell it's a different gun by the way the noise echoes through the air. A body drops behind me and I know its Jacob. I know it's all finally over. Moments pass in slow motion as fire takes over my body and I look down to find blood staining my scrubs, my coat. I'm swept off my feet, the arms strong and comforting. Dr. Cox looks down at me, afraid and I understand why.

"He shot me," I whisper.

"You're going to be okay, Lucifer, just stay with me. Keep talking."

I rest my head on his strong shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne and listening to the sound of his heart beat as it races beneath me.

"Lucifer, I want to hear words coming out of that mouth," He yells at me, breaking through my euphoria.

"I just want to go to sleep. Will you hold me while I sleep?" I ask dreamily.

"No, you've got to stay awake. If you go to sleep, you'll die; do you understand what I'm saying?"

I laugh quietly at his words, not really sure what's so funny but wanting to laugh anyways. I bring one of my hands up to rest upon his cheek, tears falling from my eyes as an acceptance washes through me.

"Everyone's got to die sometime, right?"

"Today's not your day, Lucy. Damn it, stay awake. We're almost inside."

He's screaming now, his voice panicked beyond what I ever thought him capable of. He's right, though. Today's not the day I want to die, but he doesn't need to know that I'm going to anyways. He doesn't need to know that, even now, I'm allowing my body to let go and shut down. My eyes drift shut as darkness consumes me and I concentrate on the beating of his heart until I can no longer hear its steady rhythm. The silence has finality to it that I cherish; I drift away a happy woman. 


	6. Chapter 6

I stir to a rhythm of a different kind, wondering why I can no longer feel the warmth of his body or smell the scent that is distinctly his and yet there is the beating. It occurs to me that I'm not hearing his heart, but the sound of my own through those damned monitors I hate so much. I smile despite myself as I reach up to feel the tiny circles stuck to my chest and arms before tearing them off. Flat line. Alarms go off everywhere. My eyes open groggily as I await the sight of J.D. rushing in looking scared out of his wits again, but the stupid resident that's magically grown on me is no where to be found. Instead there is a rush of denying curses as the bedraggled man before me appears to have a nervous break down, and suddenly the situation isn't funny.

"Don't freak out, cub scout. Today's not my day," I whisper, my voice hoarse and cracking from lack of use.

Dr. Cox's eyes meet my own, relief obviously flooding his body as he sits on the side of my bed and grasps my hand firmly in his own.

"You shouldn't scare people like that, Lucifer," he says with a smile across his lips.

"Sorry, but I wasn't expecting you. I wanted to make Girr piss himself again."

Cox laughs at my joke, and I smile in return.

"What happened?" I ask after a moment.

"You don't remember?"

"I… Jacob had a gun… He shot me and then all I remember is you. You were yelling at me but… I didn't want to stay awake."

"Awake had nothing to do with it. You were dead for a good four minutes."

"That would explain why my goldfish, Sammy, was telling me to flush the toilet."

We smile again, but it doesn't last long. Soon his eyes are full of sorrow again and it makes my heart hurt for him. I don't know why he looks like he does, worse than the last time I woke up in this hospital and with the makings of a beard that makes him look older than his years.

"Do you know what today is?"

"You're birthday?" I continue to joke, since I'm not really sure how to handle the situation.

"Lucifer, you've been in a coma for three months."

The bluntness of his words doesn't really faze me until a few moments later. All of my medical training flashes through my mind as I scramble for answers to why. Suddenly, though, it no longer matters to me. I'm awake, I'm alive, and I'm a little worse for wear… but still okay. My hand travels to my stomach, the softness of the gauze feeling strange under my fingertips as I search out the entry wound and then flinch when I finally find it. While mostly healed, the wound is still painful and I laugh quietly at my stupidity. When I finally look up again, I notice a large crowd of people outside my doorway and it takes a few minutes for the faces to click.

"What are my brothers doing here?" I ask, staring at the five men outside.

"Taking up space in my hospital, but mostly just waiting for you to wake up."

"Liar. The chance of anyone waking up from a coma like this is slim at best. They were getting my affairs in order."

"Yeah… they were."

He removes himself from my bed, leaving me feeling suddenly cold without him beside me to hold my hand, and then one by one my five brothers file into the room. All of us laugh and talk, mostly about when we were younger while trying to avoid the last couple of years of my life. I'm told that they've been here since about a week after the shooting, each taking turns staying over night with me in case I should wake up. They've been crashing at my flat in order to keep Corky taken care of, and now I'm out of food again. Carla, Turk, J.D. and Elliot all come in to say hi, as well as almost all of the hospital staff, and my brothers take turns telling me who they think is hot, who they apparently killed on the basketball court and how well they saw me being taken care of. When the subject of my care came up, it was amazing to see how quickly all five of them agreed on one thing. Dr. Cox.

"One of us has been here every night, Luce, and we've never seen him leave. He's always either in here or the on call room taking a nap or something. It's amazing how well he cared for you," my oldest brother, Chris, tells me.

"Once I caught him sitting in here talking to you," the middle boy, Randy adds. "Some of the things he said were really sweet, like how much he missed fighting with you."

"He taped all of the Red Wing's games for you. Since when did you like Detroit?" Brandon, the youngest, comments with a disgusted look.

The other two, Josh (Second oldest) and Logan (Second youngest) stay silent by my bedside, but give me those looks of approval that only come from family. Once all of them are reassured for the thousandth time that I'm just fine and will still be awake in the morning, they all take their leave with promises of returning tomorrow. I'm left alone to my thoughts in the dimly lit room, taking in the few details I was given about life during my coma and smiling to myself at the thought of Dr. Cox worrying over me like he had. After an immeasurable amount of time, I decide that staying in my bed is no longer an option and I slowly gather my strength to get out of bed. I slip on the robe left for me on one of the chairs and grab hold of my IV stand, using it as a sort of walker as I take baby steps out into the hall. The clock on the wall reads well after midnight, but the hospital is still moving at its usual fast past. No one stops me as I wander around and after my third trip around my floor I decide to stop by the nurse's station to talk to whoever's on call tonight.

Carla's smile is infectious and genuine, despite the late hour, and she surprises me by embracing me in a quick hug as I approach the desk.

"I'm glad to see you up, Luce."

"I got bored, so I decided to walk around. Do you know where Dr. Cox is, by any chance?"

"Asleep in the on call room, I think. He's practically lived there since you went into your coma."

"So I was told."

"Do you want me to page him and let him know you're up?"

"No, that's okay. I think maybe I'll just peek my head in and say 'hi' instead."

She gives me another smile, this one showing her understanding of the meaning behind my words, and she waves me off. The walk down to the on call room is peaceful despite the hustle and bustle surrounding me and I pause outside the door for a few moments. I'm not sure what exactly it is that I'm going to do once I step foot inside… maybe thank him for all he's done for me. Definitely ask him why he hasn't gone home, since I'm sure Jordan's just having a field day with this. Indecision aside, I open the door as quietly as possible and allow the light from the hall to shine into the small, dark room. The sight of his sleeping form on the small bunk, all curled up still in his scrubs and coat, takes my breath away. He looks so peaceful that I don't want to wake him and yet I can't stop myself from allowing the door to close behind me as I make my way through the darkness. My body, slightly smaller since the last time I looked at it due to a lack of good food, fits perfectly in the little amount of space not taken up by his own form and I lay on my side to watch him as my eyes adjust to the lack of light.

It's amazing to watch somebody sleep. Everyone should try it sometime. The calmness surrounding a sleeping body is so beautiful that it just makes everything else seem obsolete, the peacefulness seeping into your own body as well. Even in the darkness I can tell these last few months have not been easy on him. His cheeks seem more sunken than I remember and the worry lines are more numerous, especially around his eyes and mouth. Still, he's no less handsome and I can feel my heart expanding with a love that wasn't there before. The realization hit me in a way that made me feel elated beyond belief. No longer is he just a guy I'm attracted to; someone I want. I love this man.

My hand reaches up to brush a stray lock off his forehead and the light touch seems to stir him from sleep, his drowsy eyes adjusting to the dark before landing on me.

"Why aren't you in your bed where I left you?" He asks, his voice husky.

"My brothers left so I decided to walk around. Carla told me you were here… living here actually," I whisper as I replace my hand to its original position under my cheek.

"You shouldn't be walking around like that."

"I think I'll be fine."

"Hmm," he grumbles before repositioning himself on the bed. "So how long have you been laying here?"

"About an hour, I think."

"Doing what? Watching me sleep?"

"Pretty much. I've also been thinking a lot and I want to thank you for all you've done for me. My brother's praised you like you were the new Jesus."

His laugh is quiet, soothing and enough to send chills down my spine. It's odd how even though he isn't very close to me and I'm almost positive he can't see me very well; he still knew that I had shivered. A blanket is brought up to my shoulders, covering me completely in the warmth from its previous user and I can smell his cologne on the fabric. The scent brings that day back to me, the way Jacob had wrecked my car, the feeling of fire, the strength in Cox's arms as he held me and the fear in his eyes as he watched me slowly slip away from the world.

"We should get you back in your bed before the night nurse notices you're missing," he tells me, interrupting my thoughts.

"Carla is the night nurse. She knows where I am, remember? I just want to lie here a little longer."

I roll onto my opposite side so that I'm facing the door with my back towards my bed mate and I can feel myself slowly falling back into the abyss of sleep. The darkness calls for me to go into the dream land, but something stops me from falling completely under. None the less, I close my eyes and regulate my breathing as I wait for I'm not sure what. Minutes pass by until Cox leans over, obviously checking to see if I'm passed out before he lays back down.

"You hate me don't you?" He says, and I assume he's talking out loud to whatever God he may or may not believe in. "You stole her away for a while there, you bastard. But she came back to me in spite of you, this little angel of yours. I won't let you take her again. No sir-ee."

Despite the fact that I'm pretending to sleep, I can't stop myself from giggling quietly to myself. His mocking tone as he talks to God is adorable and my heart flutters when he describes me as a 'little angel'. The breathing beside me catches as he hears my laughter and I role onto my back before turning my head to stare into those eyes of his.

"You were awake, weren't you?" He asks accusingly.

"Maybe… what's it to ya?"

"Oh you're sneaky. I suppose that means you heard all of that, huh?"

"Every word. I especially liked that one you said about me. What was that again… a little angel?"

"I am so going to make you pay for that."

"Be nice to me, Zim. I'm wounded, remember?"

I laugh at his scowl, playfully pushing his face away from mine and my laughter grows when I hear a 'thunk' against the wall. He comes back rubbing the spot on his head that had hit the wall, grinning despite himself.

"You're a bitch."

"It's part of the charm. Guys just can't resist me."

"Damned straight," he agrees.

I'm silent for a moment, thinking over the possible meanings behind those words as I stare up at him. I feel a blush creeping up my neck and onto my cheeks as I glance away before voicing my thoughts.

"Even you?" I ask meekly.

"Nah. I'm immune to your wiles." 

The smile on my lips is fake, but there none the less as if I'm trying to prove to him that I don't care. He doesn't have to know that I do care, that I wanted him to confess to wanting me; loving me. I ignore the urge to call him a liar and instead role away again before standing to leave. One of his hands snakes around my wrist, stopping me from moving any further and I glance down at the appendage as though it is hell itself trying to drag me down into the fire.

"You're running away," he tells me.

The words strike true, but I shake my head in denial anyways.

"You're the only one of us that's ever run away, Dr. Cox. I'm merely going to bed."

It's only once I'm alone in my room once more that I allow the exhaustion of the day wash over me and the tears to fall free. I never imagined waking up and feeling for him the way I suddenly do. I didn't dream for even a moment he might feel the same way. Still, we'd put it out there that day in the lounge and I feel disappointed that it hadn't gone anywhere these last three months. It's possible he changed his mind or that the rumors weren't even true, but then how to explain what everyone's been telling me. How can a man that doesn't care for another person live in an on call room for three months, just in case she wakes up? Why would he say those things about me, to God no less, if there weren't any feelings there?

"Why won't he love me?" I whisper to myself, deciding that now it's my turn to yell at the man upstairs, "What's the point of me still being here, huh? I was damned well ready to die and yet here I am. Alive and well, unless you count this fucking bullet hole through my gut. You're a sick fuck, did you know that? I don't appreciate you messing with my head like this. Its bull shit. Its bull shit."

The last few words die on my lips as sleep finally decides to take me away for a few hours of bliss and a world where I'm loved in return. Tomorrow can wait. 


	7. Chapter 7

The monitor's constant sounds awake me for a second time and it's all I can do not to roll over to once again get lost in the land of dreams. I don't want to face the world today or anyone in it for that matter. Especially not a certain doctor that makes me frustrated to a point of death. Immune indeed. When a knock sounds on my doorframe, I groan loudly before turning to face the intruder. Half expecting my eyes to meet those of the greatly disliked medical practitioner, I'm surprised when I find the janitor standing before me and give him a little half smile.

"What can I do for you?" I ask quietly.

"Just checking in… Trying to get a good look-see at the woman that's sent this place into such a ruckus."

I adjust my bed so that I'm sitting up, allowing him a better angle at which to examine me.

"Am I everything you expected?"

"Well its not like I had a lot to go on, but I am a little disappointed. The way he talked about you, I thought you'd be prettier."

"Who?"

Our conversation is interrupted by Dr. Cox, bursting into the room in a flurry of mumbled curses and frowns. It's almost entertaining to watch the man quickly check over my chart and monitors, refusing to meet my gaze and doing everything possible to avoid touching me even as he adjusts the tape that holds the IV in my arm. The janitor gives me a look that answers my previous question, my eyebrow rising automatically in response and all I receive in return is a smile. I force myself to confront the pissed off doctor with another one of my false smiles in place.

"How long until I can get out of here?" I ask.

"Another couple of days, but it might be longer. We need to run a few tests before releasing you."

"And how long after that until I can return to work?"

"Immediately, I suppose."

I nod slightly, turning away from him in order to help myself brush off his curt manner. It's a difficult thing to do, but I manage after a few deep breaths and a small, silent pep talk. He scribbles something down on my chart before setting it in its proper place at the foot of my bed, striding toward the door purposefully. I don't want him to leave, although I never wanted him there to begin with, and the sudden change of mind leaves me baffled.

"I lied!" I yell after him, his movements immediately stopping.

Looking back at me from over his shoulder, one hand resting softly on the metal door frame, he waits as if needing me to continue.

"I lied," I repeat. "I was running away."

"Why?"

"My natural fight-or-flight response took over, and flight seemed like the better option."

"Whatever you say, stinky," he teases.

He takes a few more steps out the door before pausing a moment and then turning to face me fully.

"And for the record, I lied too."

The words bring a smile to my lips and a renewed hope to my heart as I watch him leave me, then. It's strange to think of loving someone like riding on a rollercoaster, the constant ups and downs making you want to empty your stomach; the thrill of not knowing what lay ahead on the tracks. But there is no greater feeling than reaching the pinnacle of it all and, despite understanding that force will bring you down again, you can't help but feeling like you're the only people sitting there… on top of the world.

An hour passes, and then two, with nothing to show for it. The time goes by so slowly that it's like I've been here forever and my impatience is getting the best of me. Just as I'm about to crawl out of my bed in order to demand something, anything, to keep me busy Carla decides to enter my room with two small cups in her hands. She smiles broadly, asking after my welfare before handing me one of the cups and I'm confused as to their contents.

"What are these?" I question.

"Pills. A couple are just vitamins to help you rebuild your strength, one's for any pain you might be experiencing and the other is for the baby."

Time is no longer slow, but frozen all together as the word echoes in my mind. 

"You must have me confused with another patient, Carla. I'm not pregnant."

"Well not anymore. You miscarried after Jacob… Dr. Cox didn't tell you, did he?"

"No… he didn't."

There is no one word to describe the feelings flooding though me at that moment. Shock… Doubt… Confusion… every imaginable emotion fills me to the brink of explosion and then leaves me again with a sense of nothingness. In the blink of an eye I become numb to the world, choking down the pills without her offered water and then quickly shooing her away. The need to be alone overwhelms me, along with the sudden urge to scrub myself until there is nothing left to remind me of my lost child and its only possible father. My mind does not even register my movements as I forcefully tug away every sensor and every trace of my IV with the exception of a bleeding hole in my arm before exiting my room at a dead run. Empty faces fly by me, none of them comprehended in my brain, and I finally find my sanctuary inside the locker room. Startled faces greet me there, bringing me out of my daze.

"Everybody out!" I yell at the top of my lungs.

There is no pleasure in the fact that I've just scared a good ten nurses and residents through that door, only the still surging desire to feel clean again. I'm aware enough to realize that I've locked the door behind me, leaving no room for interruptions, and it's only once that fact has registered that I allow myself to strip away my hospital gown. No warmth is felt as I sit under the spray, rocking myself slowly in the small hope that the world might fade away to match the emptiness I feel. As much as I want to simply close my eyes to feel at least some sort of peace in my own form of darkness, I can't keep them from wandering until they land on something that brings a smile to my lips. I've never been the kind to deal with my pain by causing even more, but my panicked mind finds only the possibility of relief. The razor connects with my skin and the results fascinate me beyond what it should. Red surrounds me, swirls together with the clear water before disappearing down the drain and then repeats the process again. It's a beautiful thing, despite the reality of what I'd just done to myself.

The world suddenly comes crashing back to me, the harsh pain of my sliced skin, the burning spray and the loud pounding of someone trying to break into my sanctuary. I bury my face in my arms, curling in on myself with prayers of it all disappearing and salty tears sting my eyes before falling softly to blend with the droplets of water already on my face. When the locker room door busts in with a bang like hell spilling over, I am not fazed. The curses and commands of the intruder falls on deaf ears and when the warm water ceases to fall, my only response is a slight shiver that is meant to shake off the offending cold. A coat of white covers my bear back, smelling of sweet cologne and the softest of touches brushes the damp hair away from my face.

"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?" Dr. Cox asks with a voice soft and comforting.

Words do not come, my own voice past working order, and all I can do is shove his hand away. His gasp signals to me that he's seen my self-inflicted wound, but I care not up until he tries to grasp my injured wrist. I hold it against my body, trying to hide it from his sight and his touch, but he is not so easily deterred.

"Give me your arm, Lucy," he demands, his tone no longer soothing.

"Leave me alone," I whisper as I finally find my voice.

"Fine, I'll leave you alone after I get you back in bed and that cut checked out."

"You'll do no such thing!"

My screams echo off the tile walls with a fierceness that causes his body to jerk away from me, giving me time to back myself into a far corner. Even the sounds of my weeping returns to my ears louder than before and I'm sure it's these noises alone that bring him back to me. Warm fingertips brush my cheek before settling under my chin to lift my gaze upwards to meet his own and greater sobs wrack my body when I see what lay inside his eyes. This time I can't seem to stop him from taking my arm away from me, a towel wiping away what's left of the blood and exposing the depth of the already healing wound.

"Why, Luce?" He questions quietly.

"Why, Luce?" I mimic before pushing him away from me with all my might. "Why didn't you tell me about the baby? I deserved to know, damn it! You should have told me, Perry Cox, and there is no excuse good enough to explain why you didn't."

My shouts have their desired effect, bringing nothing but silence as a response and a look of hurt on his face. One hand brushes through his hair in obvious frustration and I take that time to slowly bring myself to my feet, wrapping the coat around me to cover my nakedness. 

"I cut my arm struggling against you… hit it on one of the knobs. Do whatever you need to in order to make that story more believable, but I will not be sent to the psych ward. Do you understand me?"

"You know I can't do that."

"I don't care! You owe me at least this after what you've done to me."

He nods his understanding, moving forward to help me slip my arms inside his coat before buttoning it up for me and I'm thankful that he doesn't say a word about what his eyes must certainly be feasting on. I'm shocked when he scoops me up in his arms, pulling me tight against his chest, and all I can do is wrap my arms around his neck. The strength of him brings me comfort and I bury my face against his shoulder, unwilling to see the expression on everyone's face once we exit the locker room. I smile slightly when I see the broken door upon the floor, accompanied by many pieces of splintered wood, but the thoughts get pushed away when he suddenly stops walking.

"She's okay, just a little freaked out. I finally got her calmed down and she's not hurt, except she cut herself on something during the struggle. She just needs to rest," he assures the people around him.

I can feel his thumb caressing the skin on my thigh once we continue down the hall and the next thing I know, I'm back in my bed. He is sitting beside me when I open my eyes, reattaching the discarded sensors and fixing my IV before covering my shivering body with the blankets. Expecting him to leave me then, I look away to focus on a random spot on the wall and then wait for the sounds of his departure. The softest of touches brings a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold as he brushes my hair back to sit behind my ear and my gaze once again settles upon his handsome face.

"You should've told me, Perry," I whisper

"It just never seemed to be the right time," he answers, caressing my tear stained cheek.

"I'll pretend to believe you, even though we both know you had no intention of ever telling me." I cover his mouth with my hand when he looks about to interrupt before continuing. "It's okay that you didn't want me to know. A child should not be made the way mine was, but between two people that really love each other. It wouldn't be fair to the baby or to me for that matter. Though I would love to have a kid of my own, someday, it will be with someone I care about and not because I was forced."

My hand falls onto my lap, then, giving him silent permission to speak if he'd like and yet there is no retort. He merely smiles at me sadly before grasping the fallen hand, bringing it to his lips in the gentlest of kisses. I don't know what to think about his comforting action and my face must clearly show my confusion because he quickly places my hand back upon the bed before standing.

"Get to sleep, Lucifer. We have a world of tomorrows to talk about this."

"Only if you promise me I'm not going to see you until at least dinner time. From what I understand, you haven't been home in three months. Jordan's probably worried or… horny or something. I wouldn't want to give her reason to smother me in my sleep… well, anymore of a reason."

"Right… I'll see you in the morning."

"Perry," I chide. "Promise me you'll go home and get a good night's sleep. You look like shit."

"I promise," he gives up after a moment.

"Damn straight."

He laughs quietly at my joking mood, enjoying the banter between us that he's apparently missed greatly. I watch him slowly walk away from me, his wrinkled shirt clinging tightly to his muscular form and I can't help but to admire his body, while secretly wondering what it looks like without the barrier of clothes. 'Bad, very bad Lucy. No thinking about stuff like that!'

"Oh, and Zim…"

"Yeah."

"Bring me some pizza. I know what hospital food tastes like, and I'd rather starve."

"Pizza it is." 


	8. Chapter 8

Shouts bring me back into the world of the living, confusing me greatly and for the briefest of moments I think I'm back in Jacob's apartment after having him knock me unconscious. But the voices are wrong and too numerous to be that, so I force my eyes to open in order to figure out what's going on. My confusion grows when the first things I see are the backs of all five of my brothers, standing protectively around my bed, and the slightest hint of red between them. I listen to the argument ensuing, figuring out quickly what's happening.

"Doctor – patient confidentiality. You had no reason to know," screams a voice I recognize to be Dr. Cox.

"That's a load of bull and you know it! You didn't even tell her for fucks sake," replies Chris.

"Just get out, okay? We think it would be best if you stay away from out sister," adds Logan as he tries and fails at playing the reasonable one.

After a while, I've heard enough and I scoot down in my bed far enough to kick Randy in the back, sending him flying forward to slam into the wall. Everyone turns to stare at me, confusion instantly turning into regret as they take in my angered look. I look at each of them, one by one, until I'm satisfied that all of them feel very ashamed of themselves for waking me before speaking.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I yell, crossing my arms over my chest to emphasize my mood.

"Luce, listen, it's nothing for you to worry about. We just had you transferred over to another doctor. It's for the best after last night's little incident," Brandon explains.

"You don't have the legal right to change my doctor, dumb ass, and it really pisses me off that you would do that to me without asking me first. But you want to know what's making me want to get out of bed and kick all of you're asses until you can't sit right? The fact that you're trying to keep Dr. Cox from seeing me, even if he isn't my doctor anymore."

"Why would you want to see him, Luce? After not telling you about the miscarriage? Its malpractice, not to mention just plain fucked up," Chris tries to justify.

"Listen to me, all of you. Perry is my colleague as well as a great friend of mine. As much as I appreciate you trying to protect me, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself and I can decide who will or will not visit me. Especially if that's pizza I smell! You guys no better then to keep me from my fucking pizza!"

The tone of my voice border lined on hysterical toward the end there, what with me ranting about pizza and all, but it doesn't stop me from continuing to glare at my brothers until all of them back down. Apologies can be heard through out the room and it's only then that I allow my anger to dissolve.

"Alright… now everyone out, except for the man with the food."

"Later fellas," Cox says, mocking them with his invitation to stay.

I laugh at his display of kindergarten maturity before reaching out for the large box in his hand, failing to notice the hockey jersey he's wearing, the extra one in his other hand or the large TV sitting behind him. My mind doesn't even rationalize what toppings are covering the slice I've unattractively just shoved in my mouth and my lack of manners brings a chuckle from my companion.

"Don't eat it all, Lucifer. Save some for the game."

"Game?" I ask, my mouth full of pizza muffling the word.

The spare hockey jersey suddenly lands on my head, the red fabric blocking my vision and I tug it off to look it over. A large smile spreads across my lips as the Red Wings emblem meets my eyes and then I laugh loudly when the sounds of a hockey match greets my ears. The game is old, dated about three weeks after the shooting, but I could really care less. Slipping on the jersey, I settle on my bed in preparation for what is sure to be a great day and then notice that I'm being watched intensely. I stare back at Dr. Cox, unsure of why he's looking at me the way he is and feeling suddenly uncomfortable because of it. Still, I can't help but notice the way he's changed since I last set eyes upon him just last night. His beard is gone, leaving only smooth skin, and his own jersey clings to his defined biceps in a way that gives me the urge to run my hands up those strong arms. 'Bad Lucy. What did we say about naughty thoughts?'

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I finally ask.

"No reason. Just thinking about how it's not fair that you look better in my shirt then I do," he teases.

"What can I say, I'm just prettier than you."

"Damned straight. Now scoot over and pass me the pizza."

We sit next to each other on my small bed, touching everywhere along one side and I bask in the warmth his body produces. More bad thoughts filter through my brain, but I ignore them as I take another slice of pizza before forcing myself to concentrate on the TV. We hoot and holler at the screen, screaming at referees for bad calls and cursing loudly whenever the other team scores a goal. An argument breaks out over who is the best player on the team, which I immediately win and together we enjoy a lazy day of hockey.

After one large pizza, two bags of chips, six sodas each and four full hockey games, I finally notice that it's starting to get late and we have yet to leave my bed. Our positions have changed some what from the original, awkward way we sat beside each other and now we sit comfortably in a manner that could almost be considered snuggling. His one arm is resting across the bed behind me, making for a perfect head rest as I lay on my side a mere couple of inches away from him and the hand holding my bottle of pop is leaning against his stomach to become a great cup holder. It's wonderful the way we seem to rest so easy as we lay like this and my heart bursts with happiness.

When the final game buzzer sounds through the television set, I glance upwards to ask him a question but quickly silence myself. A smile spreads across my lips as I see that he's fallen asleep and as much as it pains me to wake him, I feel I have no choice. Slowly, I move around enough to toss my pop on the chair across the room before leaning up on my elbow so that my face is hovering above his own and then gently begin to nudge him with my free hand.

"Perry… the game's over," I call out quietly, not wanting to startle him.

He mumbles something under his breath, turning his head to the side but still doesn't wake. I let out a frustrated groan before falling in line with the old adage 'desperate times call for desperate measures' and then I smack him on the stomach with a loud 'thwack'. Breath gushes outward as he suddenly sits up, narrowly missing head butting me before rolling onto the floor. As much as I try not to hold it back, laughter erupts from me and I lean over the side in order to check up on him.

"Are you okay?" I giggle breathlessly.

"What the hell was that for, Lucifer?" He yells.

"Hey, it's your own damn fault for falling asleep. It's not like I didn't try to wake you up nicely… you just wouldn't regain consciousness."

"You are so lucky you're injured," He retorts, standing to brush himself off.

"Hell yeah I am. I'm thinking I should fall into a coma more often."

Fake laughter tumbles from his lips before he begins cleaning up the little mess we made and I decide just to sit back, relax and watch the man play maid. I can't resist smacking him firmly on the ass when he bends over to pick up the pizza box and more laughter ensues when he lets out a girly squeal of surprise. Once the room is fairly clean and he's returned to his spot beside me, I crawl to the end of the bed in order to manually change the channel on the television set. Without much thought, I leave the channel on a punk rock station that happens to be one of my favorites before lying on my stomach, feet in the air, to watch the latest music videos.

"As much as I love the view, babe, I think you should move. I can see up your shirt," he tells me after a moment.

I glance back over my shoulder, blushing furiously when I realize that the jersey has hiked itself up so that half of my ass is being displayed and I'm quick to cover my bottom half with a blanket while still allowing my feet to move around in the air. Going back to watching the videos, I'm excited as all hell when one of my favorite songs comes on and I unconsciously begin singing and 'dancing' along. Another voice joins my own as Perry begins mocking me, leaving me no choice but to kick him softly upside the head.

"Be nice, Lucifer, or eventually I just won't care anymore that you're injured."

"What're you going to do about it, tough guy? Threaten me to death?" I goad, rolling over to face him before giving him one of my cocky smirks.

He lunges at me then, using the weight of his body to pin me to the bed as his fingers skillfully seek out the areas on my sides where I happen to be extremely ticklish. I laugh loudly and uncontrollably, trying to fight him off but only succeeding in wiggling around looking stupid. Using one of his hands, he manages to pin my arms above my head and it's only then that we recognize the provocative position we've managed to get ourselves into. All my wriggling around somehow pushed the blanket off of me, exposing my long legs, and my pinned arms have lifted the jersey to well around my waist to reveal the pair of black hot pant style underwear I'm wearing. His body is pressed intimately against my own, nestled between my legs and pushing into the very center of my womanhood. We lay there frozen with realization as I pant from exertion and stare up at his shocked face simply waiting for him to run away again. Heaven forbid the man be predictable.

My breath hitches with shock when his lips suddenly crash into my own, bringing a surge of heat that explodes through my body, and it takes only a few heartbeats for me to begin returning the kiss. His lips are soft yet demanding as our tongues meet, fighting for dominance as we explore the warmth of each other and I swear that he's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. As my mind reels with sudden desire, I'm vaguely aware of the song coming through the TV and the pressure of his hips between my legs, although I must admit to finding the latter of much more importance.

_This time, this place  
Misused, Mistakes  
Too long, too late  
Who was I to make you wait?  
Just one chance  
Just one breath  
Just in case there's just one left_

A moan escapes my lips when the pressure against me increases as his own desire makes itself known and the sound seems to snap him back to reality. When our mouths part, I immediately groan my displeasure at the lost contact and then unwillingly open my eyes. A confused look upon my face, I gaze up at him to find a disbelieving expression staring back at me. It hits me, then, that he hadn't wanted this to happen and that alone tears a tiny hole in my heart. Our breathing is labored, my heart rate through the roof and the erratic beating can be heard through out the room thanks to my monitors. He's about to move away from me when an abrupt cough interrupts our little staring contest. We both snap our heads around to glare at the unwanted guest only to discover a very amused looking foursome made up of Carla, Turk, J.D. and Elliot. All of them are smiling broadly at the sight before them and the silence is deafening for a moment before Carla decides to break it.

"Took you two long enough," She says.

We watch, stunned, as the door is quietly closed behind the group as they approvingly leave us to our previous activity and I just can't help myself. Laughter breaks through the quiet room and I receive a disgusted look from Perry as he quickly jumps off of me, making my giggles immediately cease.

"It's not funny," he grumbles.

I watch him watch me for the longest time as he stands as far away from me as humanly possible given the size of the room until he breaks the eye contact in order to stare at the floor. I clear my throat loudly, moving to fix my clothes and sit on the side of the bed.

"What just happened, Zim?" I whisper after a moment, no longer being able to stand the silence between us.

"We kissed… simple as that," he responds gruffly.

"Is it really? Cause from my end it looked a little more complicated then that," I yell, suddenly angry at his indifference. "Like it actually meant something."

"Why? Why does it have to mean something?"

_'Cause you know, you know, you know  
That I love you  
I have loved you all along  
And I miss you  
Been far away for far to long  
I keep dreaming you'll be with me  
And you'll never go  
Stop breathing if  
I don't see you anymore_

"Because people don't just do that without there being a reason for it," I finally reply, my tone just barely above a pleading whisper.

He shakes his head at me, refusing to meet my gaze and then grabs the discarded white coat off the floor. It amazes me how quickly he's willing to run away from this argument as he begins heading toward the door purposefully. I will myself to make him stop, to say anything in order to stop him from just leaving me like this, but my voice can't seem to get past the lump in my throat. Tears sting my eyes as I watch him open that door and seemingly about to walk out of my life forever.

_On my knees, I'll ask  
Last chance for one last dance  
'Cause with you, I'd with stand  
All of hell to hold your hand  
I'd give it all  
I'd give it all for us  
Give anything but I won't give up_

"Perry… Please don't do this to me again," I beg as he's about to close the door behind him.

"I'm not doing anything that isn't for the best," he tells me quietly.

I stare at his back, dumbfounded. Do I dare call him on his bluff? Though I highly doubt it would do me any good, and would probably only manage to make the matter worse, I do it anyways.

"You're breaking my heart and you have the gall to say that it's for the best? How dare you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Lucy?"

_'Cause you know, you know, you know  
That I love you  
I have loved you all along  
And I miss you  
Been far away for far to long  
I keep dreaming you'll be with me  
And you'll never go  
Stop breathing if  
I don't see you anymore_

"Are you blind as well as stupid? I'm in love with you! I have been since pretty much the day I met you!"

Any retort he'd prepared dies on his lips as what I'd just said sinks into that thick skull I like so much. He's quiet for so long that I think he's lost his ability to speak and it's killing me inside. I want him to come to me, kiss me the way he had, but he stays glued to the ground. I want so much for him to say he feels the same way, and yet the words never come. It's like everything's just stopped… time, my heart and the entire world. He's withdrawn from me, to a place inside himself where I can never follow and knowing that is a pain worse than death.

_So far away  
Been far away for far to long  
So far away  
Been far away for far to long_

"Damn it, Perry, say something," I scream when the silence becomes too much.

"I love you too."

"Well if you think you can just run away from my feelings than that's just…" My sentence trails off when my mind finally registers what exactly he just said. "Wait a minute, say that again."

"You heard me, Lucifer."

The world falls away in the next few moments when he rushes back to me, lifting me from the bed and planting a kiss on my lips that explains everything. Passion beyond my wildest imagination sparks between us as we put all our love into this kiss, clinging to each other as though our very lives depend on it and my heart seems to stop. It all seems too good to be true and yet every nerve in my body is telling me that it is. My every dream seems to come true in that brief kiss and I release a shudder when we finally break apart.

Cheers and claps bring us back to reality and we find ourselves surrounded by a large portion of the hospital staff. We laugh together at their approval as he holds me tighter, resting his brow against my own.

_But you know, you know, you know  
I wanted  
I wanted you to stay  
'Cause I needed  
I need to hear you say  
That I love you_

"I love you, Lucifer."

_I have loved you all along  
And I forgive you  
For being away for far to long  
So keep breathing  
'Cause I'm not leaving  
Hold on to me and never let me go_

"I love you too, Zim."

He kisses me again, ignoring the happy hoots and hollers of our friends and I finally figure out something. No one knows where the tracks of life or love will take them, but it's always one hell of a ride. 


End file.
